


Wrong Turn

by matrixrefugee



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-07 09:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matrixrefugee/pseuds/matrixrefugee
Summary: After he comes back to life in the Game Station, Jack heads to what he hopes is the best place to find the Doctor...





	Wrong Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Written for < lj user="fic_promptly">'s [Torchwood, Jack Harkness, from the Game Station to Cardiff.](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/28013.html?thread=1266029#cmt1266029) Set at the end of "Parting of the Ways" and leading toward Jack's flashback in "Fragments".

He jolted back to life, gasping like man saved from drowning, the noise like a death rattle in reverse. He gazed around him, blinking, looking up as if he had been pulled from the depths of dark water. This wasn't supposed to happen. But then again, he wasn't even supposed to be alive, thanks to the Doctor: he probably would have died in orbit around Earth back in the the 1940s, during the height of the London Blitz.

Jack blinked again, pulling himself to his feet, stiffly, almost stumbling before righting himself as he stepped into the corridor where the Daleks had stood moments before.

Then he saw it, a pile of dust at his feet, just where those evil pepper pots had stood. He stooped to examine it, realizing where the dust had come from.

They'd done it. The Doctor and Rose. They had vanquished the Daleks, with time to spare, it would seem. Gotta love a Time Lord for figuring a way out of that mess.

He heard at a near distance, the wheezing, grinding sound of the TARDIS's vortex generator. Off and running again, and he scurried to catch up.

He reached the TARDIS just in time to see it fade into the fabric of space and time, off on its next journey, with him left behind. Well, it wouldn't be the first time he'd been stuck somewhere by his lone self. As far as he could tell, the station was empty. Only one thing to do in that case. "Back to Earth," he murmured, opening the flap on his wrist strap vortex manipulator. He punched a few buttons, keying it to Earth, late 20th century, London; the Doctor was likely to hit there, and he could ask what had happened, what they had done to stop the Daleks, take up where he had left off. For the first time in his life, since his days as a Time Agent, he had had someone to travel with who had no ulterior motives, unlike himself, and he wasn't about to let that journey end just yet.

He hit the activation button and braced himself as space and time folded around him and pushed him backward...

The world blinked back into visibility around him and he staggered a bit, gasping: he'd traveled in a capsule too long, it would take some getting used to traveling by the sear of his leather pants again.

And he realized the world around him looked different. He stood in an alleyway near a dock, to gauge by the smell of seawater and fish. A horse cart clatter-clopped by the mouth of the alleyway as a man in a stovepipe hat and a mantled greatcoat walked by. Hugging the shadows of the brick buildings on either side, Jack stepped closer to get his bearings. A newspaper hawker called out a headline in the liquid syllables of an odd language: Welsh if he had to guess. The names on the shopfronts opposite, or at least the names below the English names, had too many Ls and Ys for it to be anything but Welsh.

"Where the devil am I?" Jack muttered. He ducked back as two women glided past: their hemlines nearly brushed the ground, but their skirts lacked crinolines and their corsets were not quite as tight. Must be the late Victorian era. Fun times ahead explaining his nature and his tastes. Also, his vortex manipulator must have malfunctioned. He ducked back into the shadows before they could spot him. He punched a few buttons, intending to make another try, but nothing happened. Even the indicator light stayed dark. Even better. The energy cell had likely burned up in the process. Great, he was going to be stuck here for a long time. And with the togs he had on, he'd stick out like a Raxacoricofallapatorian at a health spa on New Venus 5. He pressed himself up against the wall and set to work watching for another passerby of the male persuasion who matched his height and build.

Sure enough, a gent in a grey mantled coat passed by. Jack waited till the guy had passed by and slipped out as quietly as he could. He grabbed the guy around the chest from behind, dragging him back into the alleyway, squeezing him till the guy went limp. He made short work of the guy's clothes, peeling them off, hurrying into them and putting his own clothes on the gent: someone would have a surprise when they woke up.

The guy at least had a decent stack of cash on him: this would do him for a while, but it would likely run out before the Doctor caught up with him. Best to start looking for employ, however he decided to define it, and he could get quite creative...


End file.
